Risen Icons: Batman
by jonrock411
Summary: A new telling of the classic tale of the Dark Knight


_All Characters are copyright DC. This is essentially the first in a long series of fics where I, after years of frustration with the DC Universe, rewrite. At least that's how it began, now it's more my own version of the DC Universe. Simple facts, no multiverse, Superman debuts in 1986. _

* * *

_August 26th, 1970_

_Gotham City, New Jersey_

"...and finally in sports news, the Metropolis Monarchs clobbered the Gotham Knights, 5 runs to 2. This has been a Channel 5 News Break, I'm Alexander Knox, reminding you to keep smili-" The tv clicked off, as the young dark-haired boy reading in the corner, cocked his head up from the smooth floor of the family manor as he glanced at the stand where the tv stood, still emitting heat. Standing next to it was a small gang of similar boys, all dressed in nicely made suits, and staring at him expectantly. Bruce Wayne sighed as he lifted himself up from the ground and brushed off his own suit. The four were typical at these meetings. His parents had started taking him along to their annual business meetings when he was five, and despite his best intentions, he had never gotten along with the other children of the rich and powerful of Gotham. Their eyes betrayed a certain greed and elitism that made his skin crawl, but he played nice at his father's insistence.

The most striking member was also the butt of all the jokes, Oswald Cobblepot, an overweight large nosed meek boy who seemed to hang around the others as a sense of belonging. The others only responded by making him their daily punching bag, bestowing upon him the unfortunate nickname of Penguin for his looks and waddle-like walk. He was currently glancing worriedly at the door of the room their parents were in, as if expecting them to burst out any second and catch him in some unknown crime. Next to him, a lot more jovial and the most normal of the foursome was a tall thin blonde kid who gave Bruce a friendly nod. Victor Szasz, his family was the most mysterious, according to his father they had come over after World War II to escape the Soviets, and were a good example of how great America was, though Bruce suspected some of that was just what the Szasz had told him. However, both he and Cobblepot were harmless, nothing to ever worry about. It was the two ringleaders that bothered Bruce. The first was Thomas Elliot, which funnily enough was the closest thing Bruce had to a friend his age. A ginger with a smile like a cat moving in on a mouse, Thomas laughed and nodded back at the radio. "Now come on, Bruce. Even you don't want to spend your time here stuck in some dumb book. You always crave excitement after all."

"He won't do it." the final member commented, a cold brunette who looked at Bruce with disdain, a look Bruce returned. Roman Sionis was the son of his father's closest friends, but Roman himself was a despicable person. He was the type to expect his money to put him above everyone and it was only Bruce's promise to his father that kept him from pummeling Roman like the bad guys in one of the westerns on tv.

"Do what" Bruce answered through gritted teeth.

"Basically, Roman wants you to...well, you know, sneak into our parent's little get-together and see what they're talking about. Pretty simple job, don't you think, Wayne?" Oswald explained as Bruce glanced over in his direction, causing the rotund boy to try to hide behind Victor. "Or not, you know. Your choice and all."

Bruce glanced around the room, his eye hovering over the large wooden walls, and the roaring fireplace, across the shut curtains and expensive hanging paintings til he got to the door. It was possible to sneak in, if he wanted to, he supposed. He would just need a distraction to keep them from noticing the door opening, but he wasn't sure what would work best as a distraction. Perhaps if he broke one of the windows, ah, but his mother would have to take time to get that fixed and this was the only night his father got away from his patients.

"Don't do it, Bruce. Roman is trying to get you in trouble, and it won't work." A calmer voice spoke out as the attention was brought to the red headed girl that had entered the room. Katherine Kane glanced at them exasperated as she walked toward them, uncomfortably stuffed into a small green dress. Her sister, Beth, watched cautiously from behind her. "Our parents are discussing boring adult stuff and I doubt it's of any importance to us.", she continued as she walked over to Bruce. Nodding her head at Roman, she whispered, "Also Roman is just too cowardly to do it himself."

"I heard that" Roman responded coldly, as he stepped forward, Thomas' smile growing wider as Oswald started to cower under the table. "You'll pay for that statement, Kane."

"I will, hmm?" Kate responded, giving him a cocky glare the equal of her Hollywood namesake. "Are you sure you aren't just going to have daddy bail you out like all your scrapes?"

"Watch your mouth, you bitch!" Roman roared back, and the room grew quiet. Time seemed to stop as Bruce found himself rushing toward the older boy, and slamming his fist into the side of Roman's face. As soon as that first fist landed, all that missing time exploded and things seemed to speed up as blow after blow was delivered to Roman's face. Roman responded in kind, sending a hard headbutt to Bruce's face, causing Bruce's vision to go fuzzy for a sec and a throbbing pain to rise from his nose.

"Hey, maybe lay off him, Roman?" Thomas said, looking worriedly at the woozy Bruce. Roman shot him a dark look as he gave a sharp kick to Bruce's underside and the younger boy fell to the side, allowing Roman to get on top of him and start punching the side of his head, as Victor. cheered Roman on. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce could see Kate run off before another punch filled his vision.

"I DARE SAY, MASTER ROMAN. YOU WILL CEASE IN YOUR BEHAVIOR TOWARD MASTER BRUCE, OR I WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU ARE BANNED FROM THE PREMISES." A crisp British voice echoed across the room as Roman practically leapt from him, and a tall thin mustachioed man with graying hair entered the room, Kate close behind. Alfred Pennyworth glared at the boy who moved further away from Bruce as Alfred nodded at Bruce and bent down and took a look at him. "I must say, Master Bruce, I saw Americans in the war with less bullheadedness than you. Didn't your father teach you to pick your fights? Oh well, no sense reminding you of that now. You're fine, but your nose is broken. Not overly severely though" Alfred grabbed Bruce's nose and shoved slightly, Bruce wincing as it was reset. The butler rose, moving toward Roman when the door to the meeting room opened.

"What is the meaning of this?". A tall dark-haired man said as he took in the scene, "Pennyworth, what are your intentions regarding my son". The rest of the adults entered the larger room, as Victor and Oswald moved towards their parents. Alfred turned toward Roman's father, his fists clenched at his side.

"Sir, your boy was causing bodily harm to Master Bruce. If I had not interfered, it was possible he would've caused permanent damage." As Alfred spoke, Thomas Wayne, a tall broad-shouldered man with a thick mustache moved towards his son, as Martha, small of stature with looks akin to a Golden Age Hollywood actress, lit up a cigarette behind him, offering one to the blonde woman (most likely Victor's mom) next to her.

"Let him" Charles Sionis waved his hand dismissively as he beckoned Roman over to him. "I got in fights all the time as a kid, it builds character. Lets a boy become a man. That's why I had Roman placed into boxing lessons with my trainer."

Thomas rose from his son, nodding at him as Bruce ran off to wash up. "Charles, while you may raise your son the way you want, I do not appreciate him using his training on my boy. I don't want to have Bruce become one of my patients." He finished the final statement with a hard glare to Charles who responded with a wide smile.

"Of course not, your house, your son. I will keep my nose out of it, and I will talk to Roman about how best to deal with his friends." He grabbed Roman's shoulder hard on that final word, causing the young boy to grimace slightly. "Now I believe we must be off, Gotham doesn't run itself after all."

"Bruce threw the first punch", Elliot spoke up nonchalantly, having stayed silently by the radio the entire time, as if his silence would prevent him from joining his parents who were busy in a quiet discussion with the Cobblepots. Thomas Wayne glanced at the boy who stared back with cold precision. "Roman insulted Katherine and Bruce attacked him. In all honesty, Roman was acting in self-defense."

Thomas stood for a moment silently as he pursed his lips, "I see." Looking up at the smiling face of Charles, he gave the fellow businessman a brief nod of farewell, before turning to Alfred. "Alfred, I wish to speak with my son, will you make sure our guests see the way out."

Alfred came to attention and gave a curt nod of his own, "Certainly sir, is there anything else?"

"Nothing at this time, thank you"

"Very well, sir. Come on, master Thomas, let's take you to your parents, it's time to go. Will master Bruce see you later in the week?"

"I hope so, Alfred!" Thomas grinned as he moved toward his folks.

* * *

"God damn him!" Sionis raged later as he paced back and forth in the cramped office he had found himself in, a single hanging light casting one side and then the other of the room in dark impenetrable shadows. "I can't do this anymore. Thomas Wayne is a thorn in the plan, Falcone, and you know it. If I have to keep playing nice with that soft-weight, I'll pop him myself. Hell, I might pop myself."

"As long as you don't do it here, I honestly couldn't care less." An accented voice echoed from the shadows as a face like crumpled granite emerged. "You work for Vincent Falcone, you do what Vincent Falcone says. I like Thomas Wayne, he is a good man." Vincent paused to light a cigar, offering one to Sionis who refused. Sionis glanced at the ceiling in exasperation as Vincent leaned back into the shadows, the cracks of his face brought visible by the light of the cigar. "My boy, my Carmine, my victory present for my time in the war." Vincent chuckled as he continued, waving the cigarette like a conductor's baton as he talked. "He is a good boy, but hot-headed. He gets in a fight. There was a girl, alcohol, the details are irrelevant, but he gets himself shot. I send my men out for a doctor, they find one. Thomas Wayne. He saves my boy, doesn't want money, doesn't want favor. He is not a man who can be bought. I respect that, if the very characteristics I respect are interfering with your aspect of my plans, then find a way around it. Your inability to adapt is of little concern to me. Good day, Sionis."

Charles walked out of the room into a small hallway, as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag. He growled, taking a large swing as he roared in anger down the hallway.

"You seem to be taking Falcone's refusal hard, Charles", a mocking voice purred as Sionis glanced at the other end at the shaggy-haired man who stood there, dressed in a tan-suit and grinning. "Luckily for you, I believe I can help you with that."

"What do you want, Rex" Charles asked coldly. Rex Calabrese was a high-ranking member of the Falcone family, but he was always unpredictable in his allegiances. Charles didn't trust him, but if he could help with Wayne...

"Falcone has a soft spot for his child, it's his weakness. That's fine, eventually he will be taken out. That's the natural order to our certain brand of society, however Wayne is an issue. Wayne has money and power, but he refuses to pay ball. He stands apart from the pack, and those who stand apart from the pack need to be picked off in order to keep the pack from splitting. If Wayne lives, then others may decide to stand up to Falcone. Falcone loses power, and then the entire city falls apart. I will not let that happen."

Charles smiled as he chuckled to himself, "I see we are of the same mind, but how would we even take care of Wayne. Falcone would kill anyone who went against his wishes and while you may be content to dangle your life out on a hook, I like my own neck."

Rex gave a small shrug as he turned towards the door. "I have a man who owes me a favor, a small time thug, nobody important. I'll see to it that it's taken care of." Charles watched Rex cautiously before shrugging and walking away. Rex continued down the hallway until he reached a payphone.

Punching in a number, Rex pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello, Joseph, there's a man I want you to watch out for. Well, kill. Make it look like a robbery, his name is..."

* * *

The car ride was awkward and nerve-wracking for Bruce who, at this point was quite convinced that he was being taken to the docks to be drowned. His parents had never done anything like that before, but it didn't necessarily mean they wouldn't. His parents were on either side of him, his dad was watching the street as his mom read a book. Alfred sat ahead of them, driving dutifully.

Alfred finally stopped the car as Thomas turned towards his son. "You can calm down, Bruce, Katherine told me the full story. You did good son. Violence isn't the answer but if one has to use violence, then one should use it to protect others. Only then, do you understand?"

"Yes sir". Bruce replied, relieved that he wasn't going to a watery grave.

"Alfred, we should be done around 9, let's say 10 PM. We'll grab some dinner afterwards, I think."

"Very well, sir."

"Where are we?" Bruce asked as Alfred opened the door of the car, revealing their location to the young Bruce once and for all. The Monarch Theatre, an old-style movie house, known to play older films, and this one was a particular favorite of Bruce's.

On the marquee, in large black letters, one single film was advertised to the world. The 1940 classic starring Tyrone Power. A tale of a dashing hero and vigilante fighting a corrupt criminal in the name of good.

**THE MARK OF ZORRO**

Bruce grinned wider than he had ever grinned before, "This is the greatest night ever!"


End file.
